That's the brutality of a breakup, isn't it? The people leaving think they did everything possible, the people left behind think what is possible hasn't even been tested yet.
Josh had told me a long time ago that he had this theory that an entire relationship was based on what occurred over the course of the first five minutes you know each other. That everything that came after those first minutes was just details being filled in. Meaning: you already knew how deep the love was, how instinctually you felt about someone. What happened in their first five minutes? Time stopped.
Sometimes you don't know it. What you have been waiting your whole life for. You don't know until it is happening.
Belief isn't supposed to make sense, at least not all the time. In that, it finds its power. It gets to creep up on you and carry you forward. Until you can carry yourself again.
You can't finish the things you weren't supposed to start.
We have to figure out how to let go, and forgive. This is our job.
It's harder to appreciate what you don't have to look hard to find.
People screw up, you know. You shouldn't hold it against them. You shouldn't expect everyone to know everything you're thinking about or not getting from them. It doesn't mean they don't love you. They just screwed up.
There are words and there are feelings and somewhere between where the two meet is the truth
These things...they are who you are. They brought you here. To this day. You didn't give me a chance to understand that ever the unattractive parts of you, the messy parts, were something I could accept.
We loved each other in the same difficult, unusable way where you took turns doing it, instead of ever managing to do it at the same time.
Why does it take fear to move you? Why does it take chaos to make us understand exactly what we need to do?
Why could we say more to each other when it counted less?
I couldn't help but wonder if that was what love was -- believing that someone was going to come through, in the end, and that it would still count
We only really remember things for five years. After that, what we remember, what's actually etched in our brain is our memory of the thing, not the thing itself. And five years after that, what's left is our memory of the memory.
This wasn't because he liked me, I was sure. It had more to do with him banking on what we of wedding age had all become witnesses to-how during these wedding weekends, single women, feeling a little lonely, maybe, or just feeling a little too far from being the bride, found themselves loosening their own rules, opting to be more flexible, more quickly.
There are different ways to be confused about how someone's disappointed you. Some lie about the future because they wanted to forget the past. But some will lie about the past because they think it will give you both a future.
I'm not sure we get to choose when or where we find what we're looking for.
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